


call & come (send up an SOS)

by Areiton



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 5+1 Things, F/M, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark Friendship, James "Rhodey" Rhodes is a Good Bro, M/M, Past Carol/Rhodey, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Needs a Hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23954824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Areiton/pseuds/Areiton
Summary: Rhodey has a moment, watching a pair of girls making out against the wall, where he regrets it, the way he left Carol, the way he’s still horny and annoyed.But Tony called.And he came.OrFive times Tony didn't need to be rescued, and one time he did.
Relationships: Carol Danvers/James "Rhodey" Rhodes, James "Rhodey" Rhodes & Tony Stark, James "Rhodey" Rhodes/Tony Stark
Comments: 27
Kudos: 169
Collections: IronHusbands, Ultimate Favorites





	call & come (send up an SOS)

1.

Rhodey gets the call in the middle of a date. 

Well. 

Not the _middle_. 

Rhodey gets the call when her mouth is around his dick, his balls tight and aching. Blonde hair is caught in his fist and she’s got a gleam in her pretty blue eyes, as he fucks her wet hot mouth, and he’s gonna come, jesus christ and--

His pager goes off. 

Carol comes off his dick with a wet pop and smirks at him. “You wanna get that?” She licks her lips and uses her hand to jack him off. 

She’s got these callouses on her hand from the joystick of her bird, and they drag over his cock in the most delicious of ways. 

“No,” he pants, and she laughs, and moves to take him back in her mouth, and he catches her by the jaw, pulls her up and kisses her, licks the taste of himself out of her mouth and pinches her nipple just to hear the growly little moan she gives up. 

“But I gotta,” he adds. 

He swipes it up, and three little letters blink up at him. 

_SOS._

He sighs, and glances at Carol. She’s sprawled against her sheets, a hand on her cunt and his mouth waters at the sight. 

The pager goes off again and he says, “Got a phone I can borrow, gorgeous?” 

~~ 

He scowls up at a fucking _frat_ house. 

It’s a goddamn _frat_ house, didn’t they outgrow this shit? 

He scowls, and it’s only a little bit because he left Carol biting her orgasm into her arm while his cock ached against his jeans. 

Most of it’s because Tony went to a goddamn _frat_ house. 

He finds Tony quick. It used to surprise him, how he could always find Tony, like a compass pointing north. Now--now it’s just a skill he’s grateful for and let’s it pull him through the party to where Tony is holding court, surrounded by twenty undergrads who look like this might be the first time they’ve ventured out of the labs. He’s perched on a blond giant's lap, and there’s something frenetic about the way he’s moving, his words starting to slur. 

Rhodey once watched Tony defend a PhD thesis, drunk and running on two hours of sleep in seventy two. 

He doesn’t fucking _slur_. 

Rhodey’s gaze narrows on the hand on Tony’s waist, the way it’s too tight and holding him in place and he bites back a snarl that wants to rip out. 

He’s horny and his best friend is being manhandled and drugged by a fucking _frat_ boy. 

“ _Honeybear!”_ Tony crows, and gives a happy little bounce in his new friend’s lap. Rhodey reaches for him, and--

Tony scrambles free and into Rhodey’s arms, tucking himself against Rhodey’s side like he belongs there, a smile brighter than the sun tilted up at him. 

“You’re drunk,” Rhodey says, patient. “Time to go home.” 

Tony grins and let’s himself be guided out of the fucking frat house and Rhodey has a moment, watching a pair of girls making out against the wall, where he regrets it, the way he left Carol, the way he’s still horny and annoyed. 

But Tony called. 

And he came. 

“You smell like sex, Rhodes,” Tony complains, and Rhodey growls, and drags him home. 

~~ 

**2.**

He's asleep when the pager buzzes. 

He only notices because it's tucked under his arm, near the pillow, and it sends him scrambling across the bed to get away from it, cursing and rubbing his arm. 

"What the fuck, what the _fuck_ ," he grumbles, and the damn thing buzzes again. 

It was his idea, is the thing. 

Tony was a walking disaster, and underage to boot, a messy twink with enough money to buy anyone's affections and Rhodey--

Rhodey took one week to realize that was the worst idea in a whole long list of bad ideas. He bought the shitty pagers and tossed one to Tony, and said, "If you need a rescue or a pick up or anything--send me an SOS." 

"I don't need you to play white knight, honeybear," Tony said, curiously staring at it and him. 

"I know you don't," Rhodey told him, even though he _did_. "But I want you to have that option. If you need help--" 

"Send up an SOS," Tony echoed. 

The thing is--Tony didn't ask for help. Not when he was drowning in assignments and SI work, not when his mom dragged him away from campus for a week in Tuscany, not when he got caught with coke on him at a party or when a boyfriend got too handsy. 

So Rhodey gave him the pager and _prayed_ Tony would use it in emergencies. 

The first call was startling, and terrifying, and Tony had blinked at him over three boxes of donuts, seemingly as startled as Rhodey was that he'd used the damn thing, or maybe that Rhodey responded. 

It was never serious. 

But Rhodey always answered. 

He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face, looking at the address that popped up and sighing. 

Studying would have to wait. 

~~ 

It takes him less than thirty minutes to dress and make his way across campus to the address, and he blinks at it blearily. It's a restaurant. 

A nice one. 

He groans, and wishes fervently for coffee before fixing a polite smile on his face and pushing inside. 

He sees Tony right away, sprawled messy and far too casual, across from Howard. 

He bites down on his curse, and scoots around the hostess busy with a nice white couple and approaches. Tony's gaze flicks to him, and his eyes brighten. "Rhodey!" he crows. 

"Hey, man. Did you forget we've got that lab this morning?" 

"Shit-" Tony breathes, jerking in his seat. His coffee sloshes and it's too creamy and sweet, but Rhodey eyes it anyway. "I gotta--Howard, I have--" 

"Go," Howard grumbles. "God knows you aren't actually listening to me." 

"Board meeting on the 3rd, new patents pending, rework the Icarus propulsion tech. Mom has a charity thing the 5th she wants me to attend. Anything else?" Tony asks, sweetly, but his smile has teeth. Rhodey huffs, reaches across the table, snagging bacon from Tony’s plate, and it makes the tension rising between father and son break. 

And there's _bacon_. 

"I'll see you the 3rd," Howard says and Tony tosses off a sloppy salute as he slides out of the booth and Rhodey crunches on his stolen bacon. 

"Let's go, Rhodey, wouldn't want to be late." 

Rhodey nods at Howard and follows Tony from the restaurant and back toward their apartment, and it's only when Tony sighs and the tension drains out of his shoulders does he bump his best friend companionably and say, plaintive, "But you're buying me breakfast, right?" 

Tony laughs, and it's star bright and happy. 

~~

**3.**

Pepper's eyes narrow when she sees Rhodey in Tony's office. It's rare enough that anyone is there that he had to wipe a thin layer of dust from the top of Tony's desk. 

He's settling in real well as CEO, then. 

"You do not get to rescue him today," she almost hisses and Rhodey smile, all innocent and beatific. 

"I'm just here to see a friend," he says, spreading his hands. 

She snorts, patently disbelieving, and yeah, ok, that's fair. Rhodey's leave never comes as coincident, and for it to run smack into one of Tony's few visits to the East Coast _and_ the quarterly stock meeting--well. 

He's only surprised that he hasn't been called _yet_. 

"When did it get started?" she asks, and Rhodey blinks at Pepper. She's been part of Tony's life, making sure it spins properly, for almost three years now, longer than anyone but Happy and himself, and it startles him that she doesn't know the origin of the SOS. 

"College," he says. Shrugs. "Tony was always gettin' himself into trouble. I couldn't babysit constantly, so I got us these pagers." He grins down at the clunky thing. Tony _hates_ it but Rhodey refused to let him upgrade. "Told him that if he ever needed me, all he needed to do was call." 

"And he actually did?" she says, skeptical, and Rhodey grins. 

It took six months for Tony to start using the damn things, and then he used them almost obsessively. It was almost a game. 

He missed it, the calls for coffee, the time he and DUM-E got super-glued together, the petulant frown on Tony's face when he burnt his last box of mac and cheese. 

"Have you ever missed one?" she asks, and Rhodey blinks at her. 

"Of course not," he says, and Pepper's eyes narrow, her mouth opens--

And the pager goes off. 

Rhodey smirks and waves the little black box at her. "Duty calls, Pep," he drawls, and pushes himself out of Tony's desk chair, where he's been lounging like he belongs there, and strolls out of the office. 

She sees him a few minutes later, one arm around Tony's shoulders, the younger man talking animatedly while Rhodey steers him effortlessly toward the elevators. 

She watches them and wonders if either of them can see what she can. 

The fond smile on Rhodey's lips, the eager light in Tony's eyes, the way they tipped toward each other, the way they didn't seem aware of the world around them. 

She sighs as the elevator slides closed behind them, and straightens the files she prepared for this eventuality, and squares her shoulders, stalking into the conference room to finish the Board meeting. 

Rhodey, she thinks, ruefully, isn't the only one who comes so readily to Tony's rescue. 

~~ 

**4.**

"Sir, you can't come in dressed like that," the maitre d says, a little desperately. 

Rhodey spares her a second glance and the true this--he feels a little guilty. He's in a pair of sweatpants he stole from Tony, SI logo plastered down the leg. A faded, too thing MIT t shirt with holes in the collar. 

He was comfortable, reading a book Happy had suggested because for all that Tony liked to give Happy shit for his taste in TV and literature, the man had only ever passed on books that Rhodey enjoyed. 

He was comfortable, two beers into his evening and happy to spend it relaxed, when he got the call. 

Tony called. 

Rhodey came. 

Didn't mean he was gonna change out of his sweat pants to do it. 

"I just need to grab something," he says, flashing a smile, all the cocky self-assured ego that Tony had taught him. 

It works, and he finds Tony tucked into a corner of the restaurant, a bored expression on his face as he sits across from a gorgeous blonde. 

"Tones," he says and smiles at Tony's friend. She is pretty. 

Nice rack too. 

From the confused little furrow in her brow and the blank look on Tony's, Rhodey thinks she probably has a bigger bra size than IQ. "I'm gonna need to borrow him, darling," he says. 

"Oh, are you going?" 

"National security," Tony nod sagely, and Rhodey rolls his eyes, and drags the smaller man out of the damn five-star restaurant. 

They take a shitty cab back to Rhodey's apartment without really talking about it and Tony strips down to a Air Force tshirt he steals from Rhodey's dresser and plaid pajama pants that puddle over his bare feet before curling against Rhodey's side and stealing his beer.

"Want me to order pizza?" Rhodey asks. 

"Chinese?" Tony says, hopefully, and Rhodey rumbles a laugh, adjust to the weight of the other man against his side and reaching for his phone. 

"She wasn't bad," Tony says, after he's ordered and Rhodey is reading again, one hand drifting through Tony's hair. He's laying quiet against Rhodey's side, uncharacteristically quiet, and the small admission draws Rhodey's gaze. "She was just--" 

"Not smart?" 

Tony nods, miserably and Rhodey sighs. "Why do it then? Why date the ones you know aren't smart enough to keep up with you?" 

"No one can keep up with me," Tony says, and he sounds so forlorn, so _lonely_ , it makes Rhodey's chest hurt. 

"I can," he says, without thinking and Tony's gaze flicks up, wide and startled. Too open. It makes something in his chest go tight and aching and he smiles, a quick teasing thing. "If I can, you can find _someone_ else who will." 

Tony grins and the moment slips past, but it doesn't go away, as they eat Chinese, as Tony sips his beer and listens to Rhodey read to him, as they curl together in Rhodey's big bed, and the darkness. 

He can't stop seeing the hope, copper bright and shining, in Tony's eyes. 

~~ 

**5.**

The thing is. 

The thing is, he’s been with Tony now--best friend, brother, keeper, _something_ \--for almost than he hasn’t. Tony is as much as much a part of him as his mama, as much as his uniform and his duty, and he can’t imagine a life where he doesn’t answer, when Tony calls. 

He can’t imagine who he’d be, if he weren’t the other half of Stark & Rhodes, of Tones & Rhodey. 

He doesn’t even _want_ to imagine it. 

He does, however, wish he could sleep a whole night through, sometimes. 

He glares blearily at the phone that replaced the beeper two years ago, when Tony’s finally died and couldn’t be revived. 

Tony will never admit it, but Rhodey’s pretty sure even he misses the clunky relics of their childhood. 

The phone flashes, red and white, SOS bright in the dark and he thinks, just for a moment, of not answering. 

Of calling or sending Pepper or Happy or just pretending he hadn’t gotten it. 

He yawns, hard enough his jaw cracks, and crawls out of bed. 

~~ 

He pulls up to the club and send a text because he loves Tony, he does, he’ll chase him down and rescue him even in the dead of night, but there’s a _limit_ and they are closer to forty now than thirty, and he’s not dragging him out of a club. 

He send the same text to Happy, and then slouches in his seat, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. 

It takes less than ten minutes, which might be a new record, before Tony is crawling into the passenger side of the truck. He smells of booze and sex, and Rhodey arches an eyebrow and Tony shakes his head. “Not mine.” 

Rhodey makes a quiet noise, and pulls into traffic. Tony is quiet at his side, long enough that Rhodey finally glances at him, and he’s a little surprised to see Tony watching him. He’s quiet, and there’s eyeliner smeared under his eyes, making them larger than normal, and he’s _still_. 

“You ok?” Rhodey asks, softly and Tony smiles. 

It’s a tiny smile, familiar and sweet,and it makes him _ache_ , because that smile is _his._

Shy and boyish and so real it almost hurts. 

“Why do you come rescue me? I’m not an idiot child at MIT anymore, honeybear,” Tony says. 

“Why do you still call? You don’t need me to rescue you,” Rhodey answers, and Tony laughs. 

He reaches out, tangles their fingers together and squeezes. And even after twenty years of sharing space and life, Tony’s casual way of _touching_ makes his heart flip and plunge and _soar._

“I’ll always need you to rescue me,” Tony murmurs. 

Rhodey squeezes his hand, and they lapse back into silence. And then, coaxing and sweet, Tony says, “Will you buy me donuts?” 

Rhodey laughs. 

~~ 

**+1**

His fingers rub over his phone, compulsively. _Taptaptap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Taptaptap._

It’s been eighty-eight days. 

~~ 

At first, he’d tapped it on his leg, while he lay in a medic’s gurney, and demanded to know what the hell happened, demanded to know where Tony was. 

No one answered, and his phone was trashed, and by the time he had one again--they’d told him.

A bombing. 

Mass casualties. 

Tony Stark, missing. Presumed dead. 

Rhodey threw a fit, when they said that, a screaming raging thing that ended with him strapped back to his goddamn gurney, a needle in his arm. 

“You’ll hurt yourself,” someone said. 

He fucking _hoped_. 

~~ 

He stares at the night sky and he stares at the bunk above him, and he stares at the blank sky outside his plane window and the desert beyond the helicopter and the wide open sky that he’s always loved and hates now. 

_Taptaptap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Taptaptap._

~~ 

“I heard you’re still looking,” Stane said, and Rhodey stared at him, blank and unemotional. 

The older man--Tony’s partner, Tony’s godfather, Tony’s but _not Tony--_ smiles, oil slick and cold. “You can’t keep looking, Rhodes. There’s nothing to find.” 

Rhodey smiled, regulation sharp and precise and empty. “Sir.” 

“You’re still looking,” Pepper said, and Rhodey stared at her. Tony’s friend, red-eyed and barely held together, and he squeezed her hand. 

“Don’t stop,” she said, fiercely. 

“Ma’am,” he breathed. 

~~ 

The dust stings his eyes, and he wants to close them and he wants to scream, and he wants--

 _Tony._ He wants _Tony._

The phone is quiet in his hand, a dead talisman. _Taptaptap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Taptaptap._

_~~_

“You keep chasing a ghost, you’ll throw away your career,” his CO warned him and Rhodey stared into the middle distance. 

“Are you ordering me to stand down?” he asked. 

“Would you listen, if I did?” 

Twenty years and a thousand SOS calls, a thousand rescues when Tony never once needed him, and now--

His phone was quiet and still and his jaw clenched. “No, sir.” 

~~ 

“Colonel,” someone shouts, and Rhodey watches a patch of mountains explode on the radar and his heart squeezes. 

_Taptaptap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Taptaptap._

_~~_

He didn’t sleep. 

He didn’t sleep because when he slept, he dreamt, and Tony wasn’t missing there, he was dead, a bloody broken body with so many others, and Rhodey was too late, an unanswered call. 

He didn’t sleep. 

He just _hoped._

~~ 

The helicopter blades thrum and all he can hear is _taptaptap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Taptaptap._

They bank and search and all he can feel is _taptaptap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Taptaptap._

“Sir!” 

He falls out of the copter and into the sand, stumbling, and his heart goes _taptaptap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Taptaptap._

_~~_

Tony clutches him, sobbing silent, and his fingers dig into Rhodey’s fatigues, into his skin, and Rhodey holds him close, presses Tony’s head to his chest, and feels it. 

_Taptaptap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Taptaptap._

He bites back his sob, and tightens his grip. 

“I’ve got you,” he breathes into filthy hair, into _Tony_ , lips brushing over his temple. 

~~ 

Rhodey holds him, when Tony falls asleep against his chest in the chopper, heartbeat steady under his skin, and the rhythmic tapping fades away. 

He’s here. 

He’s safe. 

He’s home. 


End file.
